Senses

It is commonly believed/known that if you lose one sense (taste, sight, hearing, smell, touch) others will be enhanced.  For instance, if you lose your sight, you may begin to hear much better.

This is due to a really cool feature of our brains called plasticity.  It is an adapting function of our brain to move processing power around to where it can best be used.  The brain sort of shifts the neurons (brain cells that make everything go) that were at work with one sensing organ to another that is functional.  Really cool stuff.

I was talking to some friends about this last night when all of the sudden a passage of scripture popped into my mind.  Matthew 5:29-30 states:

If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away.  It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.  And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away.  It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell.

Jesus says this in the middle of his ‘sermon on the mount’ directly after addressing the issue of adultery (specifically adultery of the heart – which I would guess most of us commit on a daily basis).  He repeats it in Matthew 18. 

I think Jesus means this literally.  It makes sense, and would probably work.  Besides, the guy who is saying this is the one who decided to give up his whole life very painfully, and not even for himself, but that other human bodies might not be thrown into hell.

It is shocking to think of following these commands, and troubling to think of disobeying a clear statement of Jesus.  As we continue to daily try to figure out the best way to minimize our sinning, maybe it could be helpful to see what it would really mean to cut out an eye or cut off a hand.

These are both senses.  Sight and touch.  That is what caught my attention.  So we are talking about removing our sense for sin.  That part of us that is naturally receptive to temptation.  And if we remove that sense, surely another would increase, right?  And through the work of the Holy Spirit, by God’s grace may it be that opposite sense – our sense for holiness. 

As we blind our sense for sin, we allow our sense for holiness to open up and more fully receive direction from God.  It will open up communication with God.  It is the spiritually biological principle of plasticity.  It is not easy and at first may seem harmful to ourselves, but I think in the long run we will see that one sense directed purely to God is better than any number submerged in the murky recesses of temptation and sin.

True we are losing a part of ourselves, which is difficult and hurts.  We are purposefully trimming away at what once contributed to making us who we are.  But this isn’t really us – it is merely the dirt and sludge we have collected as we have drifted across the bottom of the ocean.  We have mistakenly convinced ourselves that it is an important part.  That makes it both harder and more important to let go of.  But once we do break from that distorted sense, we can find ourselves free in the wide ocean of God’s love and mercy.

Brother Lawrence, a 17^th century French monk, wrote, “Remember that drawing this close to God takes denial – saying no to stuffing our lives full of everything the world has to offer.  Cut the umbilical cord!  No one who is still attached to worldly pleasures can find full joy with God.”

In order that our sense for holiness might prosper, may we snuff out our sense for sin.

On 'Love Wins'

I watched Howl’s Moving Castle yesterday.  It is a good movie with many layers of powerful, meaningful thematic elements.  However, I believe the culmination of these themes builds up to an ultimate message of ‘love wins’. 

And that is a common theme among good movies, especially Disney movies.  True, unselfish love can really make a difference and overcome anything.

And I think it is true.

But I was wondering: why do we have so many movies and books and stories with ultimately the same message?  Why do we tell ourselves over and over that truly ‘love wins’?

I guess one answer could be because it makes a good story that we know will be well accepted.  This seems kind of shallow at first, but it acknowledges that all humans have some desire to see love win out every time.  It is something hard wired in us – we hunger for love and good to win.  It is simply unsatisfying otherwise.

Another reason may be that we in fact doubt that love does win.  

We go through our lives and experience so much hurt and hate.  It seems as though the exact opposite of love is growing and edging out over love.  So we must remind ourselves that despite the sometimes bleak reality, there is a greater reality at work.  It may not always be noticeable.  It may be burned up and smothered in ashes.  But we know, and are reminded by our stories (fact and fiction), that love will indeed rise up anew to cast off the darkness of our own misguided hate and confusion.

So, why not keep them coming?  It seems important enough to me.

P.S. I promise it's worth it. The whole thing. (And it's not my snuggie rap)

Suspended Function

Two nights ago, as I was going to bed, I went to turn my lights off and noticed something.  I had hung a set of wind chimes off my ceiling fan/light about a month ago.  At that time, it was still reasonably cool weather and I had no need for my fan.  Since I started using my fan, I quickly strangled the wind chimes, because, well…they chimed too much.  I did not remove them, because I liked the idea of having them there, but I twisted the cord up in order to mute them.

Yesterday, my roommate showed me his graduation hood.  While there are many things to say about this hood, the thing I most noticed was that its function had been impaired.  It no longer was made to cover a head.

Suspended functions are all around.  We buy books and close them up to fit on a bookshelf from where we will never remove them.  We buy shoes to fill the bottom floor of our closet to make a nice shelf for more shoes.

Minivans? Are they really the most functional automobile, or just in existence to be made fun of?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql-N3F1FhW4

Before we think about what more we can get (or before we too quickly choke what we are doing), what if we use to the full, true potential all we’ve got?

As we look for new places to hang wind chimes, maybe we should also untangle the ones we’ve already put up, so that the music will ring out all the more beautifully.

A True Story

I have been taking pain medicine regularly the past two weeks because of an injury I unfortunately sustained from my adventurous, heroic life.  I think it is because of this medicine that I now have the strange urge to just sit in a chair for up to an hour doing nothing but staring and dozing in and out of consciousness. 

It was in this state on Saturday that I suddenly pulled myself together and realized I needed to leave and go to Sherman in order to get my car inspected (this was planned in advance, not a further product of the medication).  State automobile inspections cost about $25 less there than in Dallas, fyi. 

By the time I made it to Sherman, the place I had intended to go was closing for the day.  I was only staying in town until Sunday, so I was anxious to find a new place.  My mom called a couple of places while I rushed to check my car over, and finally found a place that would stay open long enough.  The second problem arose in that we were planning on meeting my grandparents for dinner at 6:30, so we would have to leave Sherman at 5:30.  My mom went ahead and bumped that appointment back a half hour.

I finally made it to the auto shop, which was completely filled with people.  There were 6 adult costumers and 3 children.  I filled out the paperwork knowing that there was no way I would be out of there within the hour.  Luckily I had brought my book with me, so I approached one of two empty seats to allow my mind to stray from thinking about the time I didn’t have to spend waiting to thinking about the wondrous late 1700s. 

In hindsight, the seat I chose was notably strange.  There was one seat on my left occupied by a little girl and then a man on his cell phone in the seat on my right.  I thought it was unusual that the girl was sitting alone, but, eager to dig into my book, I sat.  Soon the man left to talk outside and I was left with mild curiosity as to whom the little girl belonged. 

This is the part of the story where I could easily stray from the truth, which I am very tempted to do.  Although that would perhaps make it much more interesting, I am committed to telling this story as honestly as I can, even if its oddness lacks extraordinariness.

After a few minutes, a woman emerged from the restroom and I intuitively knew she had previously occupied the seat I was now in, providing the understandable link between estranged-seat girl and aloof father.  I was embarrassed.  She refused the stolen seat I offered back to her and simply took the girl outside. 

My physical impairments at the moment include the annoying limitation of not being able to turn my head very far, and since I was facing away from the window, I could not see what the reunited family was doing, but I don’t think they came back in at any point.

At almost the same time, another couple left the waiting area with their two young sons, who had previously been attempting to create dirt angels on the floor of the building.

This left me alone with the final couple, who sat modestly in the corner.

A comparatively long time passed before the stillness of the waiting room was disrupted by the man.  He asked me what I was reading.  I told him and explained a little of what it is about (proud to be caught reading this cool new book about explorers, inventors, and scientific discoverers).  The man, however, was simply interested in the way the pages were cut – they have a rough raggedy look on the top. 

I was glad for the conversation, although a little disheartened by the content.  Nevertheless, we continued to talk about books and how he wants to read more.

Time passed; my car sat in the parking spot ignored by all; and I sat in the waiting room sticking out like a dedicated, fast paced college student in a modest auto repair shop where time stands still (sort of). 

Finally, a mechanic came in, and just to tease me, grabbed my keys and a clipboard and opened the door to go outside.  Then he stopped, walked back in and addressed the couple sitting in the corner.  He started by saying, “You know how I like to tell jokes?...” and my heart sank a little. 

To tell the truth, I was not in any rush (remember I was medicated).  But I knew my mom and grandparents were eager to go to dinner, and I did not want to be the reason to delay it too much. 

The mechanic continued by saying, “There were two blond girls talking to each other about men.  One asked the other, ‘What kind of man do you like?’ The other responded, ‘Actually, I am dating a Brazilian.’ The first replied, ‘Wow! Now, how many is that?’”

I couldn’t help but laugh along with the corner couple, which gave the mechanic more confidence as he spouted off several more from his fine collection of Obama jokes and other topics that were not worth remembering.

Then, satisfied that he had humored us, he finally went to check my car.  It looked like I would be getting out on time to rush home and then rush an hour away from there to dinner.

It was harder to read.  I kept looking up anxious that the inspection would go quickly and that I would pass, when suddenly I saw the mechanic talking to someone else who had walked up to my car.  I tried to stick to reading, but looked up again to see my car deserted and the mechanic joker to be across the parking lot talking with someone who had just pulled up. 

Minutes ticked by.  The friendly owner of the store came in from working on another car and chatted with the other couple as they slowly paid and left.  And finally, my car was inspected.  I was free, well, at least after I talked some more with the owner who pegged me as a college student from the local college.  He told me the story of the shop, how long he’d been there and all the moves he had to make.  I could tell he cared about his job and that it brought him a lot of joy.  Maybe that’s why the busyness and the business of the place seemed so relaxed.

I will definitely go back.

P.S. I learned a lot from this 2 hour segment of my life, and I hope that this story is more than merely a personal anecdote.  Hopefully, there are many things for you to consider.

I will leave you with one:

This encounter leaves me wondering, what would it be like if we had yearly people inspections?  Would it be merely biologically oriented, like a medical physical, or would there be other tests (such as those of social skills and patience)?  And would any of us pass these people inspections?

I think I met some people that would.